


Roach Motel

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Sharing a Bed, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: From leiascully's tumblr challenge prompt: Sharing a bed.  Post-ep for War of the Coprophages





	

“You know, I never thought I’d say this to you, Scully, but you smell bad.”

 

“Cheer up, Mulder,” Scully said, still by his side as he turned to walk away.  “There are other entomologists in the sea.” 

 

He glanced down at her, feeling bad about cracking wise a moment ago.  The whole parking lot reeked of dung, not just them.  He put a hand on her shoulder, careful to stay clear of any smears of fertilizer.  “Follow me back to my motel, Scully,” he said.  “We can clean up and get the hell out of here.”

 

By some small miracle, there was a plastic bag in the back seat of Mulder’s car from a pitstop he’d made on the drive up.  They both discarded their overcoats and wrapped them up to lock in his trunk.  She was tempted to just shuck it and accept the loss, but he insisted his dry cleaner was a miracle worker and she’d have it back as good as new next week.

 

They would have to find somewhere, once they were back on the road, to wash the splatters of dung from the cars.  For now, getting the literal crap off themselves was more important.  By the time they made it to Mulder’s motel, however, it was apparent that neither of them were in any condition to make a long drive.  The all nighter was catching up to them and between his chronic yawning and the battle she was swiftly losing to keep her eyes open, they agreed to take a rest before heading back to DC.

 

Mulder let Scully into his room and told her to go ahead and clean up while he talked to the manager to request a late check out.  It was barely 6 a.m., but there was no guarantee they could be out of there by 11 a.m.  Knowing how to sweet talk when necessary, and how to flash his badge to impress, Mulder bought them four extra hours.  They should be long gone by 3 p.m.

 

Scully was still in the shower when Mulder let himself back in the room.  Her overnight bag was on the bed and her soiled clothes were dumped carelessly, and very un-Scully-like, on the vanity just outside the bathroom.  Curious, he lifted a black bra from the top of the pile and dangled it in front of his face by the strap.  He’d never imagined Scully in black underwear before, always white.  Virginal, pure, angelic white.

 

The shower squeaked off and Mulder dropped the bra like a hot potato and shuffled back to his own overnight bag propped up next to the TV stand on a luggage rack.  He kicked his shoes off and then pulled out a fresh t-shirt, sweats, and boxers, readying himself for his own shower when Scully was through.

 

A cloud of steam followed Scully out of the bathroom when she opened the door.  There was a towel turban-wrapped on her head and one around her body.  Her shoulders and calves were still wet and glistened.  She looked a little startled to find Mulder in the room and clutched the towel tighter around her chest.

 

“We’ve got until three,” Mulder said.  “You done in there?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

“Well, make yourself at home.  Set the alarm for whenever you feel like.”

 

Scully waited until the shower started up again to quickly dry herself completely and slip into a pair of flannel pajamas.  The shower had given her a bit more energy, but only just enough to prepare for a nap.  Realizing she’d left her clothes out on the vanity in full view, she flushed with embarrassment and quickly shoved them to the bottom of her bag.  She combed her wet hair out at the vanity and decided to forego the blow dryer and just lay down.  Her head was beginning to hurt she was so tired.

 

Mulder stayed in the shower until the water ran cold.  Scully had left her little bottles of toiletries in the shower and he helped himself to the nice smelling soaps and shampoo.  It was rather feminine  smelling, but certainly better than the complimentary motel crap and definitely better than cow crap.  Any man would rather smell like flowers than fertilizer, he was pretty sure.

 

There was one towel left in the bathroom and he used it to dry off and then rub his head with until his hair was spiky and damp.  He put on his sweats and t-shirt and then quietly opened the door.

 

Scully was curled up on the left side of the bed, on top of the covers.  She had on a pair of blue and white pinstriped, very soft-looking flannel pajamas and her feet were bare.  He shook his head slightly, wondering why she didn’t get under the covers when he knew she had the tendency to get cold.  He took down the extra blanket from the shelf in the cubbyhole that could be referred to as a closet and draped it over both of them as he settled in on the other side of the bed.

 

It was grey when Scully opened her eyes.  She was warm all over, clutching a blanket she never remembered going to sleep with, and behind her was the solid wall of Mulder’s chest against her back.  His arm was a dead weight over her waist and across her forearm.  It was a pleasant feeling, yet troublesome in its sweetness.

 

Cautiously, she tried to slide her arm free from under his, but he tightened his arm and made a sighing noise of disapproval.  Unconsciously, he rubbed his face into the back of her head and another low hum came from his throat.  His hips pressed forward against her backside and if she’d ever forgotten what it was like to wake up in the morning with a man, she was remembering now.

 

Wonderful, Scully thought.  Interestingly enough, she’d thought nothing of having to share space in a bed with him for a few hours, wasn’t worried in the slightest about finding herself in an uncomfortable situation, but now that she was trapped in a stupidly delicious embrace as a Her-Name-Is-Bambi substitute, she realized how wrong she was.  Any other time, she might be able to just close her eyes and enjoy the closeness, but knowing it wasn’t meant for her, there was no enjoyment in it.

 

She was about to unceremoniously shove his arm off of her when he suddenly whispered her name and let out another sigh as he hugged her tighter and then relaxed against her.  She held her breath, her heart thudding so wildly that she felt it reverberating off her ribs and throughout her entire body and her body reacted immediately, swelling and liquefying with arousal.  She shook, both from arousal and with fear.  It was impossible to extricate herself from the situation without embarrassing either of them.

 

In order to pull her arm out from his, she rolled her shoulder back a little, even though it pushed her closer against his chest, to redistribute the weight of his arm.  He muttered her name again and brought his arm in closer to his own body, his hand coming to rest high on her abdomen, just under the lower curve of her breasts, where he rubbed softly with the heel of his hand.

 

“Mulder,” she whispered.

 

“Hmm, you smell good,” he murmured.

 

“Mulder,” she said again, a little firmer.

 

He grunted and then his body went stiff.

 

“It’s all right,” she said.  “It’s…”

 

“I uh...um…”  He wiggled back from her, struggling with the blanket that kept them somewhat bound together.

 

“It’s okay,” she repeated.  “Mulder, stop.”

 

He went still.  His arm was still over her, though he’d moved his hand to her hip.  He was no longer pressed as tightly to her chest, but his hips drill brushed hers, just barely, which also meant certain other parts were touching her as well.  He burned hot with embarrassment.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, finding his voice after swallowing the sick feeling of shame that knotted in his throat.

 

“What are you sorry for?”

 

“Uh...I...I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

 

“I never said I was uncomfortable.”

 

Mulder breathed that one in and Scully did the same.  Silence followed.  The heat under the blanket grew unbearable, but neither of them made a move to kick it away.

 

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I set the alarm for one.  It’s only noon.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She covered her hand on his hip and pulled his arm back down so that she was enfolded by him again.  His chest came to rest very lightly against her back and she let out a sigh.  Ever so slightly, she tipped her head back towards him and her hair fell away from her neck in invitation.  He cautiously moved his face closer until he had his nose pressed to the sweet slope where her shoulder met her neck.

 

“I thought you might have been dreaming about your entomologist,” she said, arching her back slightly and moving her head so her cheek brushed against his. 

 

“I don’t even like bugs,” he answered, honestly, and his lips brushed against her collarbone as he spoke.

 

“Until you said my name.”

 

“I did?”

 

“What were you dreaming about?”

 

“This.” 

 

“Just this?”

 

“Maybe not  _ just _ this.”

 

Scully kicked the blanket away and turned to face him.  “Show me,” she said.  And he did.

 

The End


End file.
